


A Quiet Night

by Leni



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 08:44:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3930382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leni/pseuds/Leni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in early seasons. A peek into the friendship between House and Wilson.</p><p>Or,</p><p>Why So Late Here, House?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Quiet Night

For a change, it was a quiet night at the hospital. 

His one patient - a steal from the emergency room on a morning that had been too dull for his liking - was now stable and showed no sign of hurrying back toward death's doors, much to the joy of his wife and children and House's infinite boredom. It wasn't as if he wanted the fellow to _suffer_ , but would it have killed him to prove more of a challenge?

(Yes, yes. It actually would have.)

House chuckled at the morbid wordplay, then pressed his lips together in dissatisfaction when there was nobody around to share it with. His three ducklings, tired and bleary-eyed, had been ordered to their homes as soon as their patient had stabilized. Sheer exhaustion made them impervious to taunts or jokes at their expense, and what good were they like that? 

His other source of free entertainment, and her amazingly - and sometimes distractingly - tight sweaters hadn't bothered to sweep into his office with some complaint or another. Must be his prize for delivering a patient who was actually grateful for his life being saved rather than one who threatened legal action against Princeton-Plainsboro for whatever 'emotional distress' had been caused in the process.

And on that note... 

House made a mental note to misbehave. Those sweaters were (usually) worth the accompanying lectures.

But that was his goal for tomorrow. Tonight, with nothing to do, House toyed with the idea of turning in as well. His leg would thank him, if nothing else; a good night's rest usually meant less pain the next day.

With that thought, he rose and grabbed his cane, intent on leaving - but the office door opened before he could reach it.

A surprised Wilson stood at the threshold. "Ah." He took in House's presence for a second, shoulders tense before he gave a minimal shake of his head and smiled. "Hey. You're here."

House gave a pointed look at the plaque on the door. The one with his name on it. "Go figure."

"Your team is gone; I thought you'd left with them."

House huffed. "Weaklings, that useless lot."

Wilson nodded - but the gesture brimmed with condescension. His next words proved it. "Because a warm bed and a full night of rest is obviously inferior to-" He motioned to the lap top on the desk. "Solitaire, I assume?"

"Online poker," House lied. "I was winning."

Wilson cracked another smile. "So you quit while you were ahead. That's a first." He stood aside, leaving enough space for House to walk through. "Come on. I'll walk with you. I was on my way out as well."

They made their way to the parking lot at a leisurely pace, keeping a friendly chat that was peppered with House's usual acerbic remarks and Wilson's more underhanded teasing. A moment before they separated, each to their own vehicle, House's lips tugged into an involuntary smile as he brought his cane hard onto his friend's toes.

"Ow! What on earth, House?"

House tutted. "Wilson, Wilson. You know I won't just let it go, don't you?"

Wilson stared at him, half-cursing under his breath. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You coming to my office, not expecting me to be there... There's only one way for that to make sense."

"It's called _checking on a friend_ ," Wilson muttered, sounding less annoyed and more entreating this time. "You should try it sometimes."

House arched an eyebrow and waited. Most of the time Wilson was a known quantity, and sure enough, after another minute, his friend started shifting uncomfortably instead of in pain, and there was a hint of a blush before he finally admitted, "The nurses swore you'd left already."

"The nurses hate you."

"No, they don't."

"Oh yes," House said gleefully. "Ever since you dumped one of their own."

"They do?" Wilson looked shocked at that. "And I didn't _dump_ her! Is that what they're saying?"

"Now, Wilson, are you calling me a gossip?"

"And I'll call you worse if you don't answer."

House smirked. "Oh, don't worry. It'll pass once they remember you're the nice one." He had no use for the loyalty of the staff - that was something his interns were meant to cultivate for him - but Wilson _cared_. Still, he'd been fool enough to date someone at work; perhaps this time he'd learn. "So, what was it gonna be this time... pepper cloud in my drawer? superglue on my chair? Hot pepper paste at the bottom of my favorite coffee cup?"

Wilson had been shaking his head, obviously affronted at the juvenile bent House was attributing to him. But at the last part, approval flashed on his face. "That's a good one."

"Thanks. I'm saving it for a good cause."

"But I always get my coffee at the cafeteria."

"Cuddy doesn't."

Wilson tried to bite off a snort, but the grin won out. He would always side with Cuddy on the 'important' issues, and he shared her sympathetic vision of how patients should be treated. But when it came to mischief, Wilson was in House's corner, cheering him from the sidelines even if he berated him in public.

"We should make a truce, you know," Wilson proposed. "Prank wars shouldn't last this long. Oh, and we're adults. Professionals. That excludes childish games for sure."

House looked at his best and only friend, clapped his shoulder familiarly and smiled. "Not on your life, buddy."

Wilson grinned back, relieved. "You're such a bad influence."

"And you're such an impressionable fellow," House returned.

Neither statement was true, and what made them such good friends was that both of them were perfectly aware of it.

 

The End  
13/05/15


End file.
